- In which Jean-Michel attempts
to hold a discrete meeting with Fiona, and the Astounding Markus introduces
himself.
Fiona shakes her head in agreement with Constance, as Jean-Michel
leaves. "He might indeed be an asset to us, particularly since he doesn't
appear to go off "half-cocked" so they say. A bit on the serious
side, none the less. But for the way he accosted me in the corridor,
I was afraid I was going to have to defend myself! I think he passed
the test, all in all, but those secrets of his may prove to be troublesome
in the future. We must find a way to convince him to help us,"
she adds. "Despite his obvious interest in your considerable charms,
I think we need another lure. But what?"
Constance watches Jean-Michel go, her eyes thoughtful. She frowns
slightly, and turns back to the repast before her. Her delicate fingers
close around an apple, and she thoughtfully takes a bite, chewing and swallowing
before turning to Fiona to pursue the conversation.
The Astounding Markus
- Having not really had a chance to eat all day long, Markus takes time
out from his preparations for this evening's show to grab a light snack
in the Main Dining Room. He opens the door at the moment the man with the
long blonde hair is approaching it. Despite his gnawing hunger, Markus
holds the door open for the passenger.
"Good afternoon," Markus says in a friendly voice.
“Eh? Ah, good afternoon” the fellow replies politely, albeit rather absentmindedly. Clearly his mind is occupied elsewhere, however he does pause long enough to gaze admiringly at Markus’ waistcoat. By curious happenstance it is similar in color and pattern to the one he himself is wearing. As he passes Markus he nods his thanks and, with a touch of good-natured amusement adds, “Monsieur shows excellent taste in sartorial goods.” His distracted mood returns and he pauses to regain his bearings prior to departing.
Markus smiles. "Why, thank you, sir. Good afternoon, ladies."
Markus holds the door open for the departing gentleman. He goes over to the buffet and takes a small assortment of cold cuts and some fruit, along with a fresh cup of coffee (cream and two sugars).
Meanwhile, Constance takes another sip of juice, and comments to Fiona: "As this is my first experience with an airship, perhaps you can tell me what we are to do now? Is there a place we are meant to be, or can we choose to remain here and enjoy this delightful repast for a time? I confess, if I am not needed elsewhere, I find I am enjoying the company, and the wonderful furnishing this room contains."
"We can stay here, I believe, for as long as this place is open. I assume you would want to inspect your quarters and freshen up before dinner, as do I, but there certainly is no hurry." Fiona looks around for a steward. When she manages to summon one to the table, she ask him, "Could you please tell me how long we have before dinner? I'm afraid I've packed my time piece."
The steward approaches, but not in response to Fiona's signal; he is carrying a tray, on which is a folded note and a calling card, face down. Without comment, he places those in front of Fiona. He bows courteously in answer to her inquiry. "It is now twelve minutes past four of the clock, fraülein," he answers. "I believe that if you turn around this way," he points, "you can even see the hands on the clock for yourself."
There is, indeed, a large grandfather clock with ornate gilt scrollwork in a hunt motif, very Bavarian, in a corner of the Dining Room. If she cocks her head a little, Fiona can read it - and make a rapid mental assessment of its value. It is a rather nice reproduction of 18th century work.
Markus, carrying his refreshments, approaches the table. "On behalf of the RLB Parsifal and her crew, may I enquire how you are enjoying your trip so far, ladies?"
Fiona notices the young man as he stops by the table. "My goodness! Like moths to the flame," she thinks to herself, referring to the power that Constance's beauty wields. "We are having a most wonderful time, sir! I am Fiona Adelia Rohling, and this is my companion, Lady Constance, Mistress of the Woods. And you are ...?" Fiona likewise admires his taste in attire.
Constance pauses to look once more at the door from which Jean-Michel left, before turning her eyes to the new arrival. She smiles radiantly, and rises, extending a pale, slender to him. "All is marvelous, good sir, and this ship is most astounding. My name is Constance, and this is my companion Fiona. Might I enquire yours, sir?"
"My name is Markus Kohl, dear lady, and I perform here on the ship. I do hope you will both come and see my performance this evening, in the Aft Dining Room. If you present these cards at the door," as Markus scribbles a few words on the back of two of his calling cards and hands them to the two ladies, "you shall be given the finest seats in the house."
The card is very simple, with the blazon of the Cabinet of Cups and Wands in the upper left corner. It reads "Markus Kohl, Cabinet of Cups and Wands, Wien, Austria" On the back are scribbled the words "guests of the Astounding Markus"
"But aside from performing," Markus continues, "my duties include seeing to the comfort of the passengers. I just wished to inquire as to your comfort."
Constance looks at the card with delight, and then back up at the man before her. "Are you a magician, sir? I have heard much about mortal magic, and would dearly love to see an example or two of this phenomena. I have heard it is very different from our own Faerry magick. But whatever you do, I am sure you are most wonderful, and I would be delighted to come and see you perform. I thank you for your kindness."
She smiles radiantly at Marcus. "And as to our comfort, well, there is no way we could be treated with greater courtesy and kindness than has been shown us since we arrived on board your most delightful flying vessel."
Fiona lets Constance take the lead with Markus, nods her thanks to the waiting steward, and picks up the card to read it. Well, well, speak of the devil… The card is that of the recently departed Jean-Michel.
Fiona opens the folded note, her eyes quickly scanning the message written elegantly upon it. The note is written in a neat hand, the message brief and to the point: Please meet me at the Promenade in ten minutes. As it involves a matter of family honour, kindly come alone.
"Oh!" exclaims Fiona. "Constance, here he goes again! What a scoundrel that Jean-Michel is." Leaving the note with Constance, Fiona excuses herself and prepares to leave. "I shall meet you for dinner at 7:30 in the large dining room. If, for some reason, I do not arrive by 7:35, feel free to call upon the authorities." Turning to Markus, she offers her hand. "I'm sorry to have to leave so soon, good sir, but I trust you will give me another opportunity to enjoy your company?"
Constance reaches down to pick up the note left for her to read, and scans the writing. She smiles slightly, and glances up at Fiona, with a slight wink. "Do enjoy yourself, my dear. Have no fear. I shall entertain myself adequately." With that she goes back to sampling the various fruits and juices laid out for her perusal.
Markus polites salutes Fiona as she leaves, then turns back to Constance to answer her previous comment. He smiles a slight smile. "There are many sorts of magic, my lady. While I am an actual sorceror, my show deals more with such feats as sleight of hand, mesmerism, and daring escapes, all of which may seem like magic to those watching. And while I will never reveal exactly what my show involves, I should just say that magic aboard this ship would endanger my audience as well as myself, and would not be wise. Then again, you know what they say about performers and wisdom," Markus says, winking. "As for your desire to see some of my more "esoteric" feats, perhaps during one of our stopovers, I shall oblige you and show you the basics of human magic, as long as you are willing to explain the basics of your glamours to me. As an illusionist, they fascinate me greatly. May I join you while I eat my slight repast?"
Constance listens to Markus' words intently, nodding her comprehension
of what he says. "Please. Join me, and share a meal with
me. I have a great number of fruits and juices which I invite you
to share with me. There is more than I can eat, I fear. It
was meant for two, but my companion was unavoidably drawn away. Once
we land, I would most pleased to show you some of the basics of Faerie
Glamour, although I am no master of the art, I fear. My skill with
the Ethereal Arts are much more polished. But if it intrigues you,
it would be my pleasure to share my simple skills with you."
Her soft eyes catch his, and she smiles warmly, as she leans forward slightly
to better catch his words.
Billet
- Having successfully performed the social equivalent of severing the
mooring lines, Jean-Michel beats a swift retreat. His pulse still
pounds from the Fairy’s caresses and he knows he needs time to sort matters
out and think clearly before he attempts to act on what must be done next.
He returns to the privacy of his quarters, emerging ten minutes later with
a much calmer demeanour. Returning to the main Dining Room he risks
a swift glance inside to ascertain whether Miss Rohling is still present
and whether or not she is alone.
Jean-Michel wants to talk privately with Fiona. As Constance is still with her, as well as the gentleman of good sartorial tastes, he hands a note and his card to one of the staff to present to Fiona. He nods in satisfaction. Parfait, the note is enroute and she should emerge shortly. He departs for the Promenade so as to choose a suitable location; it must be reasonably public, yet not too public. What must be done requires privacy however she must not suspect an attack.
As he picks and chooses among possible sites he hums a jaunty Orléans riverboat tune, smiling and greeting the other passengers in a most friendly manner. Yes, he much prefers being in control of the situation. He doubts, however, that Miss Rohling's reaction shall be any too cheerful, which is... regrettable. Having determined a good spot, he settles in to wait.
His pleasant air slowly becomes more melancholy as he carefully chooses how he shall tell Mademoiselle… no, Fraülein Rohling. When in Rome or, in this case, Bayern… On the one hand he does not wish to arrive, as this is the closest approximation he has had to a holiday in three years, on the other he knows duty requires him to tend to family business. Yes, he must remember to make contacts if the Nuage is to resume her purpose. There are fuel bills to meet, and his crew to pay, and Customs and fees and duties and… sigh….
Fiona makes her way to the appointed meeting place, and positions herself fairly conspicuously. At the same time, it should allow her to see Jean-Michel approach from any direction.
After a minute or two he has not yet made an appearance so Fiona gazes around in search of him. She espies him standing in a semi-secluded area of the Promenade, momentarily lost in melancholy thought. Perhaps he senses her awareness, or perhaps it is merely coincidence; he blinks a time or two then looks around questioningly. He sees Fiona, nods his greetings and approaches her.
“Thank you for accepting my rather impromptu invitation, Fraülein (am I pronouncing that correctly?) Rohling.” He offers her his arm and escorts her back to where he had been waiting. He is patently uneasy; in the same manner as his message, he quickly comes to the point.
“If you may forgive me for being so forward, Fraülein, I firmly believe Captain Esmeralda O’Hoolihan is blood-kin to you, for the resemblance between the two of you is far too striking to be mere coincidence. As to the reason I have requested private speech with you… Bien, you may very well have gathered by now that there is more to the O’Hoolihan family history than I have as yet recounted. As it is a matter of your family’s honour, however, what I have to say is for your ears alone. I give you fair warning that this information was gathered from various sources in Cayo Tiburón, none of it from the persons primarily involved. The information was quite consistent, however, which suggests either an underlying truth or at the very least a common source; as to the degree of veracity I am not entirely certain yet I tend to believe there is a close adherence to the truth. Please believe me when I say that, if it were mere gossip or idle speculation, I should not subject you to this.”
Jean-Michel is decidedly uncomfortable however he is well aware that he must go through with what he has begun. He draws a deep breath before continuing with this very unpleasant yet necessary matter.
“After the dearly beloved Mrs. O’Hoolihan passed away, Capt. Sean O’Hoolihan became quite distraught and sought solace in strong drink. As he was one of their best captains, the Red Sun Line owners allowed him an extended period of mourning however eventually he was obliged to return to his duties. The first run he was assigned upon his return was as Captain of their newest steamship and the pride of the line, the Southern Cross. Her maiden voyage was from Boston to Charleston, however she never arrived….”
He is not enjoying this, however he grimly continues. “The Southern Cross tore open both her hulls on a known reef and she went to the bottom in near record time; she took six hands with her as well as all of the freight. During the subsequent investigation, various members of the crew took oath that the Captain had been inebriated before the incident whereas the Captain claimed he had been taken by a touch of illness after a meal. A lengthy discussion followed privately as the owners debated the various testimonies. When the verdict was returned, it was not in the Captain’s favour. They named him “shipkiller” and broke his command.
“One of the most heinous crimes a Captain can commit, Fraülein Rohling, is to kill their own ship through either negligence or intent, whether by blowing up her boilers or running her aground or any of various other means. An independent Captain, or one in a position such as mine, who acquires the reputation of being a “shipkiller” finds it virtually impossible to sign on another crew, even assuming they are able to replace their lost vessel. A Captain who kills a Company ship has essentially killed their own career as well, for while a Company may very well forgive a Captain with a reputation for having several crews mutiny, choosing to interpret it as a sign of a forceful disciplinarian, to kill a ship is unforgivable. Particularly when she is the newest, the pride of the line, and on her maiden voyage, well before she has even begun to return a profit to her owners.
“That is the true reason, then, that Capt. Sean O’Hoolihan and his daughter removed themselves to Cayo Tiburón. You see, most of the inhabitants there care not one whit about who is a shipkiller and who is there by choice. Furthermore the area is known to be a dangerous one for ships due to the frequency of reefs and hurricanes so if one is willing to risk one’s life as a salvage pilot there is a fair amount of money to be made. The work is frequently life-threatening, and sometimes one is obliged to wonder precisely how a ship came to pile up on the rocks for there are a number of salvage operators who are, at times, rather too successful in predicting the next wreck. The line between honest mishap and intentional foul play is, at times, distressingly narrow...
“For that reason salvagers are generally considered one brief step above pirates and thieves; although there are a very limited number of honest salvagers to be found, in Cayo Tiburón there are few who are concerned over such niceties. Captains Sean and Esmeralda O’Hoolihan are considered to be of the more honest sort, and I truly regret that is very nearly all the good news that can be gleaned from this unfortunate situation.
“As you are seeking your family, Miss Rohling, I strongly urge you to inquire at Cayo Tiburón although, whether you journey there personally or opt to send an emissary on your behalf, you would be well advised to tread carefully. Cayo Tiburón is not a place for those souls who are mild of nature or gentle of spirit or even simply unprepared for its rigors; I should be rather distressed to learn you came to harm because I failed to warn you or to fully impress upon you its dangers.”
And indeed, his look is one of concern and sorrow for, despite the game that she and the Fairy have played at his expense, he is not angry with them; hopefully Fraülein Rohling shall not interpret this news as some sort of retaliation on his part.
Listening to his discourse with interest and some concern, Fiona feels for the serious young man and whatever his personal interest may be in Captain Sean and Esmerelda O'Hoolihan. "Sir, I truly do not know anything of these relatives. Since my mother is from Eire, perhaps when I get back she can shed some light on family relations. Perhaps the departed Mrs. O'Hollihan is a cousin or some such. I certainly do not intend to go to the Cayo in the near future, but perhaps after the world is saved... "
She looks for his reaction at her words, searching Jean-Michel's face for signs of reliability she suspects is there before continuing. "I know that Constance and I played the part of social but hairbrained "ladies" back in the dining room, but you must know it was for our own protection. I sincerely apologize if you think we were playing you for a fool. We simply had to know, particularly given our interesting run-in in the hallway, whether you were the sort of person who could be trusted. Your outrage and exit assured us that you were. Since this is Constance's burden, and I have vowed to help her at any cost, it should be left to her to explain the situation, if you are willing to hear it. Are you? And will you forgive our innocent duplicity?" Fiona, for the first time in the conversation, gazes steadfastly into his eyes with a mixture of hopefulness and a hint of a smile.
Jean-Michel cocks an eyebrow at the mention of saving the world. This is far from the first time that a lady has broached some story or another in an attempt to secure his attentions, particularly after realizing her ploy has misfired. The fact that he was capable of turning his back on the Fairy might very well have incurred her wrath and, from his past experiences, the more beautiful the woman the greater her rage when spurned. This is, however, the first time he has ever been approached with a tale of this magnitude.
The question still remains: What is the truth in this matter? Is this a machination concocted by the two lovely ladies or is there truly a need for whatever services he might be able to render? Eh bien, Jean-Michel, shall you walk into the lion’s den? Mais oui1, though not with my eyes closed. As the saying goes, ‘Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.’
He smiles pleasantly and assures her, “Fraülein, women have played that game with men for many years before either you or I were born and shall doubtless continue to play it for many years to come. In that game I do not mind so much playing the fool, particularly when one considers the potential winnings. I dare say, however, that your Fairy companion must certainly have been bored to distraction to be reduced to playing that game upon a humble Orléanais2 lad such as myself, given that there are any number of handsomer and richer gentleman available.
“In that matter, I am not greatly offended so while there is no need to apologize I do appreciate the courtesy. Now, before we return to speak with your friend, there are four considerations:
“Premièrement3, what is your friend’s full name? I regret the only name she has supplied me with is “Constance” and I can hardly call her that when I scarce know the lady, eh?” Another smile removes any possible sting from his words.
“Deuxièmement3, how do you construe my departure as a sign of trustworthiness?
“Troisèmement3, how is it that a Bayernese antiquarian comes to be involved, to the extent of taking such solemn vows?”
Fiona blushes, then turns slightly pale with anger at the implication of his words. "Monsieur, I assure you that I work as a "procurer" for no one, and you know that I have not played that game with you myself. Au contraire, it was you who approached me in the hallway, told fantastic tales to impress, and then sent me a note to meet you after your hasty departure! Surely you see how it must look to me, sir! If this situation were not so dire I should leave this instant!" Fiona stamps her foot for emphasis, and pauses only briefly to catch another breath. "For all that, I still shall endeavor to give you your answers. First, her full name as it appears on her card is Constance of the Woods. More than that I do not know, nor would I expect more from the Faerry folk. Two, your departure was seen as a sign of trustworthiness because we were testing you to see if you were merely a womanizer and the sort of man who went madly dashing about the world with carelessness. Since you declined Lady Constance's charms and became annoyed with my 'enthusiasm' for duels, it became apparent to us that you were a more serious man with a great deal of caution and perhaps secrets of your own. Third, I have become devoted to Lady Constance's cause because she needs help, the situation has dire implications for all of us, and I have sensed truth in what I have learned so far. And truly, that is all I can say." Fiona brushes away the tears of anger and tries to compose herself. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must get ready for dinner. If you decide to help us, I'm sure you will find Lady Constance right where you left her, speaking with Markus. Good day, sir."
So saying, Fiona turns on her heel and heads towards the nearest corridor that will take her to her room.
Rather taken aback, Jean-Michel blinks a few times in consternation; although he had hoped otherwise it seems his ill luck with redheads continues to hold true to form. He doubts her frame of mind is presently such that she will listen to him, however as he has given offense he must make amends. Quickly he steps out and catches up with her. As he walks beside her he is careful not to walk too closely to her or give her further cause for grievance.
“A thousand pardons, Mademoiselle. Had I thought my words or actions would have been interpreted thusly I should certainly have done differently for it was not my intent to accuse you or hint that you were acting in such a capacity. And in the future, perhaps I should do well to choose my words with more care for New Europa is certainly not Orléans. The “game” I was referring to was the one of flirtation, Mademoiselle, nothing more. At the risk of broaching an unsuitable subject, I have in the past been approached by procurers, both professional and otherwise, and you may rest assured that at no time did I view you as such.”
In a gentle tone he continues, “We have not had a very auspicious association, which I do regret. Can Mademoiselle find it in her heart to forgive this one for having given offense? Or perhaps advise him how to best make amends for his transgressions?” Seeing the tears in her eyes he holds out his handkerchief and gazes at her hopefully.
Fiona looks into Jean Michel's eyes, then down at the handkerchief tiredly. "I do accept you apology, sir. It is entirely possible that Lady Constance was flirting outrageously with you, but you must remember, the Faerry folk do imitate our ways, and do not always know our customs or the intent behind them. She is truly trying to rally support for her cause, and the need is dire. I suppose the way most men have reacted to her in her experience make it inevitable that she will see that behavior as normal." Taking she proferred kerchief, she murmurs, "Merci," and dabs her eyes before returning it. "If you are of a mind to help us, let me know at dinner and I can discuss it with Lady Constance. If you need more information, I'm afraid you'll have to get it from her. I really need to freshen up now." Offering her hand in conclusion, she waits for Jean-Michel to take it before departing.
With a hint of courtliness, Jean-Michel grasps her hand and bows over
it, making no attempt to engage in possibly improper or overly familiar
conduct. “Until next we meet, then, Fraülein Rohling.”
Barely has she departed when he commences pondering. He would have
liked to ask her his fourth question, however under the circumstances it
would not be wise and, depending upon the results of his interview with
Lady Constance, it might even become a moot point.
To
Be Continued...
